The Doctor's Rulebook
by MegZ137
Summary: An ongoing series of one shots describing some of the Doctor's rules that were not shared in the television show. Mostly set in 11/Amy/Rory world, but a few involve 10/Rose. ***I do not own these characters, I just play with them in my head. ***
1. Stay Away From Starbucks (Rule 81)

**Rule 81 - Don't Park the TARDIS Next To A Starbucks**

Rose thought she was in for a lecture for sure, the day she spilled coffee on the TARDIS console. She was just leaning over to see what he was working on when a brief moment of turbulence shook the cup in her hand and _plop!_ Hot liquid splashed right over the side in a huge glurp, right smack onto the controls. Rose instinctively held her breath, waiting for the repercussions.

The Doctor, however, ignored her completely and listened closely as the console made a strange whirring sound. He leaned in and examined it as all of the beads of liquid were immediately sucked into the cracks and crevices of the console, leaving it clean and dry.

"Don't feed the TARDIS coffee, Rose," he admonished in a whisper. "She just loves it, and the driving all goes a little wonky after she has some." He fiddled with a knob, which immediately let out a tempermental little spark.

"It was an espresso."

"We have an espresso maker?" the Doctor looked genuinely puzzled.

"I didn't think so," Rose said, "But when I went to make coffee this morning that's what was on the counter."

"Hrm. Rose, what made you spill it?" he asked suspiciously.

"There was a little turbulence right as I was…" Rose stopped. "You don't think…"

"I do. She set this whole thing up. I knew I shouldn't have parked her next to that Starbucks on our last trip to 2012."

The TARDIS made a happy purr and lurched rapidly to the left.

"Are we picking up speed?" Rose asked.

"Yep." The Doctor said. "Hold on tight. You might as well just dump the rest of the cup on there too, now that she's got it in her blood."


	2. Don't Go In My Pockets (Rule 114)

**Rule 114 - Stay Out Of The Doctor's Pockets**

1.

They were out watching the fireworks on Quintillion Six, sitting together legs swinging on a rock waiting for the show to begin.

"You know, Pond," the Doctor said, "these aren't your average Earth fireworks. They're actually shot down towards the planet's surface from an extremely low orbiting moon. The effect is quite dramatic."

Amy grinned. "They're coming right at you?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes," he said, clearly settling into lecture mode. "Although of course, the geothermal properties of the planet's atmosphere make it impossible for the..." He oomphed as Amy jostled him solidly in the ribs with her elbow.

"Don't destroy the magic of it for me. I want to experience it without knowing for sure that it's perfectly safe, okay? More fun that way." she said.

"Fine, fine, Pond. Whatever you need." He smiled and leaned back on his elbows, peering up into the darkening sky.

Finally the show started, and even the Doctor had to admit that the sight of a firework coming down from far up in the sky and exploding overhead was both beautiful and utterly alarming. The crowd around them ooohed, aaahed, and ducked appreciatively.

Amy, dressed as always in the shortest allowable skirt, shivered as a cool breeze picked up. She burrowed in closer to the Doctor, her head nuzzled into his shoulder.

"Here," he said, shrugging off his tweed jacket. "Wear this."

Amy snuggled into it happily, breathing in the jacket's inimitably great smell - tweed and cloves and a tiny bit of something akin to motor oil and something she couldn't identify at all. Space? Does space have a smell? Anyways, it was a happy smell and she was hit with a wave of contentment. She crammed her hands deep into its pockets, and then leapt to her feet with a shriek.

"What?" the Doctor cried, hopping to his feet with sonic in hand and glancing around them in a wide circle. "What happened?"

"Something _bit _me! In your pocket!"

"Shhhh!" said a voice from behind them. "Get down! You're ruining the view!"

The Doctor pulled Amy back down to the rock face. "Amy, quiet down," he murmured in a low voice. "You're going to start a riot. I absolutely promise you that nothing in my pocket is capable of biting you."

Amy leaned over and poked him in the chest. "I know a bite when I feel one, Mister. What have you got in there, a gerbil?"

The Doctor pointedly ignored her and stared up at the sky. "Watch the show, Amy."

"You do! You do have some kind of rodent in there!"

He turned and gazed at her steadily. "Can we just put a pin in this for now? Please hush up." He kept eye contact with her for a few moments to make sure she heard him. Finally she flopped down beside him (this time with her hands nowhere near the jacket) and tried to enjoy the show. Which wasn't easy thinking about what might be climbing around inside her borrowed coat.

2.

"Ok, Doctor," Amy said a few hours later as they unlocked the door of the TARDIS and stumbled in. "Spill it."

He blinked at her innocently. "Spill what?"

"What," she said menacingly, "is living in your coat?"

"Amy, Amy, Amy..." he put on his best persecuted look. "Nothing."

"So you won't mind if I have a look then?"

"Be my guest! Well you already are my guest," he said, stopping to consider that for a moment. "That doesn't make any sense, really. But help yourself! Mi jacket es su jacket, as they say," the Doctor called as he disappeared into the library.

Undeterred, Amy plopped down cross-legged on the console room floor and tentatively reached into the pocket on the left. At first the usual things one might expect - well the usual things for a Time Lord, maybe - came out.

_Two older, nonfunctioning models of the sonic screw driver. _

_A jammy dodger or two. _

_Bubble gum. _

_Kitchen twine. _

_Safety scissors. _

_Batteries. Lots of batteries._

The Doctor wandered out to see how she was doing. "I'm going to start a movie, do you want to join me?" he called.

"Nope," Amy called, "This is way too interesting."

Amy found herself feeling bolder as nothing with teeth emerged and started digging more forcefully.

_An umbrella. _

_A Darth Vader pez dispenser. _

_One of those weird frisbee things from Tron. _

_A vial full of sparkling bead-like pollen. _

_Fourteen handkerchiefs. _

_Four extra red bow ties._

_Clown shoes and a nose._

_A small green book entitled "Poisons and You! How to Avoid Them." _

_A collapsible digging shovel. _

"This is getting ridiculous," Amy muttered. "I haven't even gotten to the second pocket yet."

_A small bicycle, possibly sized for a monkey._

_Three large, interlocking hoops._

_One half of the kind of box a magician saws through, with no lady inside. _

_Something that looked a lot like a mandolin._

_A VHS exercise tape._

_Allen wrenches of all shapes and sizes, stuck together with a rubber band._

_An inflatable bath toy._

_Crayons. _

_Silver polish._

_Eleven golf balls, bright yellow._

Two hours later the Doctor returned to find Amy centered in a small clearing surrounded by the most bewildering pile of things.

"Are you still at this?" he asked. "Honestly, Pond. Go to bed."

"I hardly need to," she joked. "I'm sure I'll find a blanket and a pillow in here eventually."

"Yes, well, this is all well and good fun, but I'm afraid I simply have to put an end to this science project of yours," the Doctor replied primly. "You're messing up my filing system quite badly. Organization is important."

Amy blinked up at him for a beat or two.

"You have an organization system for this?"

"Of course! How else do you think one could manage infinite pockets? Everything is alphabetized and sorted into it's own quantum container. Cross indexed and referenced in the central computer and in the sonic." He flopped down on the jump seat. "And _that _is why I always know where something is when I need it."  
_  
_

"Except for the correct date and time," Amy pointed out.

"Ah! Ah ha." He agreed. "Yes, well, there's no way to store that in a pocket."

Amy rolled her eyes as she stood up, surveying the mess she'd made. She gently picked up the coat with a thumb and forefinger, still a little wary of it, and handed it back to the Doctor. "Here. I give up."

"So you admit you were wrong about wild beasts living in there?" he asked.

"I admit no such thing. But if there is, god knows you would have it indexed under some planet I can't even spell, cross referenced by it's DNA code." She tossed her hair back over her shoulder. "Well, good night!"

"Hey!" he called after her rapidly retreating form. "Hey! What about all of this mess?"

Amy gave a quick little wave and blew a kiss as she disappeared down the corridor. Undoubtedly to take a bath or some such nonsense, he thought. Humans and their baths.

He took a moment to survey all of the things in the pile on the floor before picking it up and stuffing it back into the larger of his coat pockets. Indexing system? Cross referencing? As if. It wasn't a complete lie, he had always intended to install that kind of system. Instead he preferred to just reach in wildly and let fate or the universe provide whatever it thought he needed. It had always worked so far.

Except for the rodent, of course. Some mischievous child _had_ once shoved a small animal in his coat, several years ago, and he had never once been able to locate it. There was almost no chance it was still alive, was there? Surely it couldn't have found a food source and somehow survived for two years without ever letting him know it was there? Surely it couldn't have reproduced?

He stopped and pondered it for a moment.

_Naaaaaaah, not possible. _

Still, he made a mental note to mix a small dose of antibiotics into Amy's morning tea tomorrow. Just in case she really did get a bite.

Better safe than sorry.


	3. No Pets (Rule 26)

**Rule 26 - No Pets!**

The Doctor pocketed his sonic screwdriver and wiped his hands contentedly on his pant legs. "Ok, then, that's a wrap. Villagers saved, slug beast safely transported home, and we are off to New Florida for a holiday!"

He spun around and was stopped short by the sight of Amy, holding a tiny furry critter in her cupped hands. Its fur was a moss green, its long tail was ringed with bands of yellow, and its large, adorable eyes were trained on him enticingly. As were Amy's.

"No, no, no, no, NO!" He ran a hand through his hair and tried to compose himself in face of this unexpected onslaught. "No animals on the TARDIS. Rule 26. I do not do pets."

"Oh but doctor… just look at this little face. He's so cute!" Amy held up the lemur-like creature and it complied by blinking adorably. Then it clambered up her arm and settled in on her shoulder, pulling her orange hair around it like a blanket. It started to emit a sound that was enticingly like purring.

"That… that THING is a wild levorian and it is not a pet!" He whipped out his sonic and checked it over, just to be sure that it was, in fact, what it appeared to be and not some kind of hidden danger to them both. One can never be too sure with levorians.

"It's all of five inches tall and its mother just died!" Amy protested. "How can we just leave it here?"

"Amy," he said slowly and calmly. "You have to put it down now. It's imprinting on you. We can't have a levorian on the ship. Do you know how big that thing is going to get? Way bigger than your average gorilla. It eats over 20 pounds in bananas per day when it's full grown."

"Ah HA!" she cried. "You just don't want to share your bananas!"

"No," he said, "I don't."

Amy pouted. Normally this would work like a charm but he held firm this time.

"Twenty pounds. Per day." He waggled his eyebrows meaningfully at her, all indignant with that ridiculous green animal clinging to her sweatshirt. Humans and their soft, sentimental hearts. "How much poop do you think that creates? And who exactly do you think is going to clean it up?"

Amy recoiled slightly, set the baby levorian down like it was made of toxic sludge. "Ok, fine, boss man." She leaned down and patted it on the head. "You win."

"Besides, it probably has relatives around here somewhere. These things move in tribes." A banana suddenly came shooting out of the underbrush at them, landing roughly on the Doctor's left boot and leaving a smear. "That's probably one of them now. Let's go before they decide to really warn us off."


	4. Always Leave Them Guessing (Rule 35)

**Rule 35 - Always Leave Them Guessing**

1.

They were walking down the sidewalk of New Earth, New New York. No one really walked anywhere these days, but the Doctor thought it was nostalgic to do so. Oddly enough, despite the lack of pedestrians, New New York still had sidewalk buskers. Musicians, fortune tellers, even the odd con man running card tricks and cup and ball games.

"Ooo!" Amy said, grabbing his hand and pulling him over. "Look, Doctor! Card tricks!"

The Doctor harumphed, but he allowed himself to be led.

"Welcome, mates!" the busker cried. "Care to place a bet? Win some credit for the lovely lady? Just tell me what cup the ball is under and you've got yourself a windfall." His hands moved quickly, almost a blur, but of course they were not too fast for time lord senses.

The Doctor watched in silence for a minute, a predatory gleam in his eye. "It's not under any of them. You nicked it off the table when I made eye contact with you and it's now currently in - " he stopped and sniffed the air, "in the cuff of your left pantleg. Which seems to have curry on it, by the way. Love a good curry. Also, you have an 8 of hearts in your sleeve, a couple of magnets disguised as rings, and - is that a dagger?" The Doctor stuck out his tongue and gave every impression of tasting the air. "Yes, you've definitely got a dagger strapped to your lower left leg. Really, I'd think you would take more care."

The busker stared at him, dumbfounded, and then bent down to pull out said dagger.

"Run!" the Doctor shouted, grabbing Amy's hand, a wild grin on his face.

2.

"Was that utterly necessary?" Amy complained, panting, a few blocks later.

"Well the alternative might have been fending off a knife fight," the Doctor informed her.

She elbowed him. "No, not the running. The goading of the poor street performer. I could hardly blame him for going a little mental."

"Oh pshaw," he said. "He was a second rate hack. I'm much, much better."

"At card tricks?"

"At everything."

She grinned at him. "Well how about you prove that?"

"Fine, yes, whatever Pond," he said airily. "Anytime."

3.

The next morning, Amy wandered into the kitchen to find the Doctor cheerily making tea and toast.

"Ok, big shot, yer on," she announced, slapping a deck of cards down on the table. "Dazzle me."

He eyed her as if she had just sprouted a third head. "Excuse me?"

"Card tricks!" she smiled. "You promised. Show me your superior talent."

"Now? Seriously?" he indicated his half eaten toast reluctantly.

"No time like the present!"

"Ok, fine." The Doctor grabbed the cards and started to shuffle them. "I'll have you know, I studied with Harry Blackstone for a while, you know. Back in the 1930s."

"Who?"

"Oh, Pond," he sighed. "You have no culture."

"Yeah, yeah," she said. "The 1930s were a long time ago. Now show me a trick."

Amy had to admit that his hands were fast. The cards veritably flew in his nimble fingers as he shuffled them back and forth. Finally he extended a pile to her.

"Pick one!"

She did. Nine of clubs. She slid it back into the middle of the deck.

He vamped. He made meaningful faces. He tapped the deck, leaned down and laid an ear close to the cards as if listening. And then, with a flourish, he pulled out ... the four of spades.

"Is this your card, Amelia Pond?"

She chortled. "Uh, no."

He looked up at her, startled. "Yes it is!"

"Uh, no it is not."

"It is!" he said, increasingly flustered.

"You're the Time Lord," she smirked. "Go back fifteen seconds in time and check for yourself."

"Ok, ok, just a second." He pulled another one out with a flourish. "Is THIS your card?" Jack of diamonds.

"Uh, no."

Amy patted his shoulder and walked out. "It's ok, it's just not your thing." She smothered a laugh as she headed down the hall. No point in pushing it _too_ far.

4.

Amy thought that might be the end of it, but over the next few days, she kept finding him at unexpected moments huddled over the cards, muttering, moving things from hand to hand, practicing feverishly. She even thought that she saw him holding a wand once, although he quickly spirited it away when she approached. Amy studiously pretended not to see him, loving that he was so obsessed and needing to impress her. As if magic tricks were the key to her heart.

Finally four days later, the Doctor appeared triumphantly in her bedroom. At three a.m.

"Amy! AmyAmyAmy!" He was literally bouncing on her bed. "Amy, wake up!"

"Oi! Do you know what time it is?" Amy moaned, rubbing her eyes.

"Oh, c'mon Pond, get up! I have something really important to tell you!"

Amy sat up, pulling the covers up around her neck, suddenly unnerved. Had they crashed? Was he regenerating? Was there someone chasing them?

"What? What?" she insisted. "Tell me!"

He paused for a moment, his face unreadable, and then with considerable fanfare he pulled out from behind his back - the nine of clubs.

"Amy Pond," he intoned solemnly, "Is this your card?"

She stared at him quietly. "Well I'll be," she finally drawled. "And it only took you four days! How DO you do it?"

He chose to ignore the sarcasm. "I'll never tell," he said. "Rule 35 - always leave them guessing."

He had no idea why she hit him with the pillow. Humans were so unpredictable.


	5. Don't Eat The Soup Beast (Rule 301)

**Rule 301 - Don't Order From Menus You Can't Read**

After a long, hard day mediating a coup among the sentient amethysts of Damolloc Prime, the Doctor and Amy visited a restaurant on the planet Shan Shen, just for a change of pace.

"This is the top rated noodle house in this sector of the galaxy, Pond," the Doctor said, grinning. "Oh, you are in for a treat! No one does noodles like the Shan Shen."

Amy smiled back. They really had been eating more than their share of curries lately. Something a little different sounded great to her, especially on a planet that was somewhat based on Chinese culture. However, the menus, when they came, were covered in blue dots and scratchy things that made no sense to her at all.

"Doctor, can you read this?" she asked quietly.

"Of course I can, Pond. I can read everything." He peered more closely at it and gestured at one long section to the left. "This column over here is all your basic noodle bowls with a variety of local delicacies in it. Lots of them are what you would consider meat. Just point at will."

Amy glanced over to where his finger was. "What about the next column over?"

"Those are for more adventurous eaters," he said dismissively. "Don't bother."

Amy huffed. "Oh really. So I'm not adventurous enough to eat any of that?"

The Doctor smirked at her. "Amelia. Some of the dishes in that column involve living insects that bring on a hallucinatory experience. Others have been fermented in what can most closely be described as a form of yak spit for over 900 years. And then the next column down –"

"Ok, ok," she cried. "Enough. I'll stick to column one." And when the server came, she smiled politely and obediently pointed to something halfway down column one. The server complimented her on her good taste, gathered the menus, and scurried away.

Unbelievably quickly, steaming hot bowls were brought out to them. The Doctor's was small and reasonable and seemed to involve a large amount of vegetables. Amy's was large, completely opaque, and an odd shade of brown.

"Uh… Doctor? What is this?" She poked at the surface nervously. A few bubbles escaped from somewhere below.

"It's what you ordered, Pond," he smirked. "Don't insult the locals by acting like it might bite you."

Amy steeled herself. "Ok, fine." She took a small sip. "Hrm. Not bad. It's kind of like a mix of beefy and … some kind of melon?" She swallowed again, took a small nibble of something solid. "I can do this."

The Doctor, meanwhile, slurped away noisily, head down into his bowl on the table as was, he informed her, the local custom. Amy couldn't help giggling even if it was – it was like eating with a room full of puppies. Plus she was pretty sure his bowtie was getting wet.

Amy poked around with her spoon, local custom be damned. She was going to eat like a civilized person. She fished around for a noodle and came up with something she thought must qualify for the description. She was in the process of winding it around her spoon for eating when suddenly it catapulted itself back into her bowl, all under its own power.

Amy let out a shriek and backed up in her chair.

The Doctor looked up, perturbed. "Amelia," he scolded. "Stop making a scene! What is wrong?"

"Ok, bub, just watch." She tentatively reached out to dig for another noodle and started pulling it out of the bowl, only to have the same thing happen - the noodle retracted below the surface as if something was pulling it back down.

The Doctor blinked. He pulled out his sonic and aimed it at the bowl, as discreetly as possible, then checked out the readings beneath his napkin.

"Amy," he said quietly, "Don't panic, but I think perhaps your noodles are, well, alive."

This was too much. Amy was up and out of her chair like a gunshot, the chair clattering backwards into another patron, and suddenly all eyes in the restaurant were on the orange-haired girl and her companion who were making such a fuss.

"I took a bite of that!" she shouted, shaking a finger at the Doctor. "You're telling me I just ate something that was alive? I thought you could read the menu!"

"Well it's not like it's sentient," the Doctor observed rationally. "It's just a soup beast. They're really just there for seasoning. Most people know not to actually eat them."

Amy balled up her napkin and threw it at him before storming out of the restaurant. "Oh, and by the way," she called back to him, "your bow tie is dripping broth all over your shirt." The last sight she caught of him was the stricken look on his face as he tried to dab off his beloved bow tie with his napkin, with a waiter hovering nearby.

She pulled her TARDIS key out of her shirt and headed back to the ship to rummage through the kitchen. _Mental note_, she thought, _don't eat the sentient life forms. If it wasn't a rule, it should be_.


	6. Don't Be Sneaky, Unless (Rule 211)

1.

"You two are planning something," the Doctor said, rounding on Amy and Rory, who were huddled together over on the library couch.

"No we're not!" Amy insisted.

"Bah, please," he said, "like I'd take _your _word for it, Pond." He turned to look Rory straight in the eye. "Rory? Rory. What's up, my good man?"

"Nothing, really," Rory mumbled, not meeting his gaze.

The Doctor narrowed his eyes, but he let it drop. The Ponds, sensing a narrow escape, fled off to their room a few minutes later.

.

2.

"Do you think he knows?" Rory asked. "Maybe this isn't a good idea."

"Shut up, of course he doesn't." Amy assured him. "And yes it is! He's nine hundred and thirty. He was seven hundred something when we met him. In that time has he ever once had a birthday cake?"

Rory smiled. "Well no," he said. "But to be fair, there were a whole lot of years that we weren't a part of in there, at least in his timeline. Who knows where he was and what he was doing. Six months for us and forty years could pass for him."

Amy shook her head. "Nope, I don't think so. It's time he had a birthday party. And since we don't know his birthday we're just going to pick a day and supply one."

Rory wrapped her in a hug. "That's sweet. Amy Pond is being sweet."

She poked him. "We still have to think about presents. See if you can find out what he wants."

.

3.

Rory found the Doctor later, engrossed in a large red tome in the library. "What're you reading?" he asked.

"Rory! This is the Domesday book."

Rory blinked. "You mean a copy of the Domesday book."

The Doctor grinned. "No. This is the original."

"You have the original Domesday book from William the Conqueror in 1066? But that's supposed to be in the British Museum."

"Yes, well, I borrowed it."

Rory shook his head, leaving that one alone for now. "Amy and I were wondering if we could go somewhere where we could do a little shopping. She needs some clothes and girl stuff, and I could stand to tool around a shop or two."

The Doctor thought for a minute. "Yeah, could do. I could take you to the Mall Planet."

"That'd be great, thank you," Rory said. "Anything you need while we're there?"

"No, not really," the Doctor replied, "The TARDIS mostly provides me with whatever I need."

So much for that, he reported back to Amy.

No problem. Amy had an idea.

.

4.

The Doctor was not at all happy over the next few days. In fact he was preparing to say he was outright cross. Every time he turned around, it seemed like Rory and Amy were whispering about something and shutting up about it as soon as he appeared. Companions were not supposed to keep secrets from their friends. Wasn't there a rule about that somewhere, he wondered. If not he needed to write one.

He was just about to confront them when they disappeared all together, shutting the kitchen door - since when did the kitchen have a door? Seriously, a sentient ship could really be a pain in the behind at times - and banging around loudly. What could they be doing? Were they having some sort of ... egads .. marital interlude? In his kitchen? He blushed to the tip of his ears and beat a hasty retreat to the swing under the console. He was really going to have to do something about these two and their manners.

"Doc-tor!" Amy sing songed about thirty minutes later. "Where're you off to? We need you!"

Hmph, he thought, crossing his arms over his chest and staring sourly up through the glass ceiling. We'll see about that. Let them look for me.

Finally, he leapt to his feet, decided he'd had enough. "Ok, you two," he announced in vexation as he stomped up the stairs. "I have a few things to say and you are going to stop all of these shenanigans and listen to me..."

He stopped in shock.

"Yes?" Amy asked archly, an eyebrow cocked beneath a precariously perched party hat. In her hands was a sparkler, and Rory was wearing another hat, and between them was - what was that? He moved in for a closer look. A humongous chocolate cake (not vanilla, vanilla is rubbish) topped with row after row of Jammy Dodgers.

"Is... is..." He made an effort to stop stammering. "Is this for me?"

"HAPPY SELECTED BIRTHDAY!" Amy and Rory shouted, then a huge billow of confetti came floating down from the ceiling. Apparently the TARDIS was in on this too.

A corner of his mouth turned up into a grin. "Selected birthday?"

Amy handed him a cake cutter. "Well we don't know when it really is, but we know we've never seen you celebrate one. So we decided to throw you a party for all the years you might have missed. Here, cut yourself a piece."

The Doctor didn't need the invitation repeated, cutting himself the largest piece that would almost fit on a plate. He leaned in and took a long smell, savoring, before cramming a large bite into his mouth. There was frosting on the corner of his mouth as he grinned at them.

"Oh!" Amy shouted. "I almost forgot. Here's your present." She handed him a small package wrapped in bright blue paper.

"For me?" The Doctor looked utterly delighted. He ripped into the paper with wild abandon, to find a small leather case that zipped around the edges. He opened it and peered confusedly at the contents. "Lock picks? Is that what this is?"

Amy nodded. "For wood doors. So you can finally get through them."

The Doctor thought for a minute. "Was River involved in this?"

"Well of course," Rory said. "Where would we find burglary tools on our own?"

The Doctor laughed. "It's perfect. I love it." He tucked it away in a pocket and went back to his cake. "You know, I _knew _you two were up to something. It was quite irritating."

"But worth it," Amy smirked.

"Correct! Thus proving what I have always said," he mumbled around cake to them.

"Oh, what's that?" Rory asked.

"Rule 211 - don't be sneaky," he said, loading up another big bite as Amy blew a noisemaker somewhere behind him. "Unless you have a really great reason. Then sneaky is okay."


	7. Don't Die (Rule 130)

1

The Doctor rarely swore, but when he did he did so with gusto. And now was one of those moments, a moment when it seemed appropriate to reel off a string of Time Lord curses such as had not been heard since the fall of Gallifrey. Which he did, in between dodging around boulders and pulling Amy along behind him as they were fired at from above and much too close behind.

_Thwump!_ A lethal-looking dart whizzed past his ear and landed in the trunk of a tree just a stitch to his right. He shuddered. The Coraxians were a species that most closely resembled a large race of dragonflies, but with various enhancements that made them nastier and more evil tempered. Really more like someone had crossed the body of a dragonfly with the temperament of an ostrich. A very grumpy ostrich. Whose mother you had just insulted.

Who was also armed with blow darts.

_Thwack!_

_"_Come on," the Doctor shouted. "We're almost there!"

"I'm trying!" Amy loved the running, she did, but this was pushing it. Something about being under attack aerially while stumbling through a forest strewn with really large rocks made this much less fun than their usual escape. It was really hard to run swiftly when one was scanning the ground every second to make sure one didn't turn an ankle.

Sure enough, though, she caught a flash of blue through the trees in front of them. There, finally, was the TARDIS, in a small clearing. The Doctor shoved her ahead of him and turned to face the Coraxians, sonic in hand, trying to buy a bit of time for her to get the door open.

"Go!" he shouted. "Get inside!" He shot a beam of light at the three closest creatures, knocking the blow darts out of their mandibles and causing them to pull back a bit.

Amy ran for the door, pulling her key out from under her sweatshirt, and had just slid it in and heard it click when something pierced her shoulder. The world lit up in a bright flash of pain and then went black all together as she crumpled to the ground over the threshold of the TARDIS.

.

2

The Doctor saw Amy fall out of the corner of his eye and turned to blast the one Coraxian who had slipped by him, his shot sending it reeling backwards into the trunk of a tree with a startling crack. He didn't stop to see if it was alive or dead, just scooped up Amy's frighteningly still body and ran inside the TARDIS, shouting a few commands to send them into the vortex as he raced her to the medical bay.

"No, no, no, no," he muttered, pulling the overhead scanners down over Amy's unconscious form. Her skin was ashen, her fingertips were turning blue, and her breathing was very shallow. A quick scan revealed that all of the muscles in her body were seizing up. He slapped an oxygen mask on her and programmed the scanner to look for toxins as he took a few moments to hook up an IV.

In a few seconds, the screen showed that the payload of the dart was a rare toxin that disrupted motor control and lead to rapid paralysis and resulting asphyxiation. He got to work, rummaging through the cabinets for the right antidote, mixing and injecting, and then watching anxiously to see if she improved.

.

3

Amy emerged bit by bit and not without some reluctance from a long, deep sleep. First came the awareness of a bright light on the other side of her eyelids. This did not encourage her to open them. Then she started to hear things. First some banging sounds, metal on metal, like someone was placing a spoon on a tray or banging a pan lid. Then, more subtly, she became aware of a quiet murmur from a voice she loved. Someone was holding her hand and talking to her in a low, conversational tone.

_Amy, _it said. _Come back to me. Please be all right. Don't leave me to fight the bad tempered insects of the universe without you. Who will mock my bow ties if you're gone? I would miss it, the mocking. And you do it better than anyone. _

She felt a hand on her forehead, comforting and cool, and the touch of a pair of lips on her forehead.

_Amelia Pond, _the voice said, _Where have you gone?_

"Ow!" Amy cracked open an eye and was rewarded with the most blinding light. "Too bright!"

The Doctor dimmed the lights and then bent over to greet her.

"You're back!" he said gently. Even in her weakened state, Amy could see the anguish and relief written all over his face.

"Was it bad?" she asked.

He nodded. "Almost lost you from this one. The venom nearly suffocated you and the antidote stopped your kidneys. Luckily the TARDIS medical bay has nanites that can repair just about anything, and they built you some new ones."

Amy looked startled. "I have new kidneys?"

"Yes. You might notice it next time you use the bathroom," he said. She blinked at him confusedly. "Your urine might be blue for a few trips. It'll go away."

Amy groaned. "How long have I been sleeping?"

"Two days."

"And you've been sitting here the whole time?"

The Doctor ran a hand through his hair and nodded, gave her a smile. "Of course. Where else am I going to go?"

Amy swung her legs to the side of the bed and tried to sit up, only to be met with a rush of dizziness. The Doctor steadied her with an arm around her shoulder, tried to slow her down. But two days of lounging in the medical bay was more than enough. Amy Pond wanted a shower and something to eat, and then her own bed. Enough of this lingering at death's door malarkey. In the end, the Doctor had no choice but to half escort, half carry her down the hallways to her room, run her a bath, and then linger nervously outside listening for the slightest sound of trouble until she was done.

Once she was tucked in bed, he disappeared for a while, only to show back up with a tray with a cup of steaming broth of some kind. It smelled somewhat like chicken, but Amy knew better than to ask. Much better to believe it to be something familiar and palatable. The Doctor propped her up on pillows and all but spoon fed her, until she finally grabbed the spoon away from him.

"Doctor," she said, "enough! I promise you, I'm back. I'm not going to pass out on you, I'm not going to stop breathing, and I can feed myself."

He smirked a little. "Yes, yes, okay. I can see that you're returning to your senses. The day you let me hover over you is the day I'll truly be worried about you."

Nonetheless, he insisted on staying with her, sprawled out in a chair to the side of her bed. _Oh don't mind me, _he told her in a voice that brooked no argument,_ I'll just be over here reading, you go ahead and pop off to sleep or whatever you need. Nope, not a word out of me._ Amy shrugged and rolled over, pretending not to notice when he pulled out the sonic and checked on her vitals. She cocooned up in her cozy blankets as best as she could, falling almost immediately asleep.

.

4

When she woke up, he was gone, and she could tell another significant chunk of time had passed. On testing out her limbs, she found that she felt much better and stronger this time. She slipped on a robe and a pair of slippers, ran her hands through her hair in a lame attempt to straighten it, made a cursory swipe at her face and teeth, and wandered out into the corridor.

She found him in the kitchen, drinking tea and eating jam directly from the jar.

"Amy!" he said. "You're up! This is good news! The best, really. Good job, you!"

Amy smiled as she refilled the teapot to make another few cups. She sat down at the table across from him, examining him closely. She could see the effects of the strain of the last few days in his face. His skin was paler than usual and there were creases between his brows. His eyes looked deeply tired and his fingers were fidgeting as they tended to do when he had been under undue pressure.

"Doctor," she said, "I need to say something."

He looked up. "Yes?"

"Thank you," she said quietly. "For saving me from the bugs. For taking care of me."

The ghost of a smile lit up his face. "Amelia Pond. I'll always care for you."

The teapot whistled, and Amy got up to freshen his cup and fix her own. They drank their tea in silence for a few minutes.

"Oh," he said suddenly. "And that reminds me. I've added a new rule."

Amy sputtered on her tea. "What? Rules again? I'm pretty sure we have enough of those."

He smiled. "This is a good one. Rule 130." He cleared his throat and spoke in what he considered his official tone. "Companions are under no circumstances allowed to become mortally wounded."

Amy mock saluted. "Aye, captain. Sorry, sir. I will attempt to not die on you again. At least not this week."

His face blanched. "No, Amy. No. Don't even say it. You will not die. I will keep you safe. Even if I've done a rubbish job of it so far." He took a deep breath. "Things are going to be different from here on out."

Amy's eyes widened in alarm. "Uh, no."

He looked surprised. "Excuse me?"

Amy put her tea down on the table, rather harder than she intended. "You are not going to suddenly start leaving me behind and only taking me to boring places because you think everything else is too dangerous or for god's sake - " she winced at a sudden pain in her side - "telling me to go wait for you on the ship while you fight the bad guys."

His brow furrowed. It seemed wrong to be irritated with her when she had just almost died, but there it was. No one could push his buttons like she could.

"You're not the boss of me, Amelia Pond," he said, his voice tight.

"And neither are you." Her ire was really rising now. "Promise me you're not going to start being all overprotective and acting like I'm all ... fragile. If you are, I'll kill you myself."

He met her eyes for a long beat, obviously contemplating whether he had it in him to really fight her at this moment, and then suddenly he softened. "Okay, Pond. You can still play." He smiled and shook his head. "It's not like I could stop you if I tried, anyways."

"Ok, good," she said, fighting a yawn that somehow escaped anyhow. "That's a relief."

The Doctor laid a hand on her shoulder, then headed out to tend to the console for a while. Despite his assurances, Amy had a feeling he would be quietly trying to make things dull for a bit, out of fear and out of concern. It was sweet, to a degree, but she knew she was going to have to fight this battle with him a few more times before he recovered his confidence and accepted that she was okay.

They would argue, they would discuss loudly, they would negotiate, and in the end they would be just fine. Amelia Pond and her Doctor, they were always fine in the end.


	8. Someone Notice Where We Parked (Rule202)

_Another 10/Rose appearance for those of you who like your Doctor of the Tennant variety. This is an interconnected series of three scenes that lead to the creation of rule 202. Enjoy, and please drop me a review if you have a moment! I'd be happy to consider any suggestions for upcoming rules in the series, as well!_

* * *

1.

The first time was understandable. They were in London in 1956, looking into a series of disappearances at local orphanages that led, in turn, directly to a party of Uvodni, after child soldiers for their endless galactic wars. After a brilliant chase all over the northern half of town, an exploding ship, and a hastily-rigged-together teleportation device that brought the children all back to the surface just in time, the Doctor and Rose laid on the grass in St. James Park, catching their breath.

The Doctor packed his sonic away looking highly satisfied, brushed the dust off of his shoulders, and turned to grin triumphantly at Rose.

"So," he said, "where did we leave the TARDIS?"

Rose looked blankly at him. "I dunno! I thought you knew."

He huffed. "Well, I was busy saving the planet, you know. The least you could do is keep track of little things like where we left our ride."

Rose made a face and took his arm. "Best start retracing our steps."

To be fair, there were over 600 blue police boxes in London in the fifties.

They checked over 83 of them.

Rose kept a careful count.

..

* * *

2.

The second time they were guests on a space liner where the new symphonic work of a major, intergalactic composer was being played. It was quite a large ship, and they had stringent parking policies. The Doctor and Rose had barely stepped out into reception when a strange-looking valet appeared, hand out for the keys.

The Doctor peered over his glasses at the creature in front of him. Its skin was papery, gray and crinkled like it had been shrunk down from a much larger size. Wide black eyes appeared endlessly nervous, it had no nose to speak of, and its suit jacket was ill-fitting at best.

"No," the Doctor said, "I am not turning over my ship to you."

"Apologies, valued guest," the creature said, its tones obsequious but firm. "No time travel devices are allowed on the hospitality decks. If you will not allow us to drive your machine we can move it for you with our hover-lift to a more suitable parking location."

As if by silent signal, a robotic arm appeared. It plucked the TARDIS off the deck, deposited it in a large elevator, and whirred it out of sight all before the Doctor had so much as drawn a breath to continue arguing.

"Now see here!" he began, only to be interrupted by the creature whipping out a small round chip and handing it to him.

"Your parking retrieval location," it chirped, and off it went.

The Doctor considered making a fuss, but quickly decided it was best to let it go. Their hosts were known for their considerate treatment of guests, and he was utterly sure no one could harm the TARDIS while it was away from him. He offered his arm to Rose, and escorted her into the concert hall.

Two long hours later, after hearing a baffling cacophony of what could most easily be compared to the mating songs of Lithuanian crickets combined with a one man percussion department and several vibrating scarves, they stumbled out of their seats and headed for the lobby.

"You were sleeping, Rose," the Doctor whispered.

"Doctor!" she reprimanded. "Was not."

He eyed her meaningfully.

"Ok, maybe a bit." She grinned. "Crickets always put me to sleep."

"Crickets?"

She shrugged. "Sounded like crickets to me."

He patted his pockets as they headed off to the valet stand to retrieve the ship. And patted. And patted.

Rose eyed him warily. "What's wrong?"

"We-e-e-ell," he said, "I seem to have misplaced the chip to claim the TARDIS."

"What? Look again."

He did. He continued to dig through various pockets – breast pocket, both outside pockets, inner pockets, even his pants. He looked through his socks. He even checked a pocket Rose hadn't known he had on the back of his tie.

"Well," he sniffed, "I'm sure it won't be a problem."

It was late the next morning before they finished the paperwork, submitted in triplicate, and had their fingerprints processed, retinal scans completed and verified by experts, auras read, astrological charts cast, and hair follicles analyzed for remnants of illegal substances.

Rose had long since given up all hope of seeing the TARDIS again when they finally wheeled her out with a whir and deposited her on the pavement in front of them.

"Thank you for parking with Atransi Enterprises," the small gray valet said warmly.

..

"You know, technically that one wasn't my fault either," the Doctor told her later.

Rose smothered a laugh.

"Well it wasn't!" he repeated indignantly.

"No, you're right," Rose said, nodding emphatically. "The little gray guys were being ridiculous."

Somewhat mollified, the Doctor smoothed down his lapels, pulled out an apple, and took a bite.

"After all," she continued, "How could they expect you to hang on to one little valet ticket? Even the Doctor has his limits."

She ducked before the apple he threw hit her.

..

* * *

3.

"There's a Mall Planet?" Rose asked, incredulously.

The Doctor grinned at her from behind the screen. "Oh, yes. Grandest shopping in the galaxy. Organized into cities simply by the type of merchandise one prefers. You can go to whole towns focused on hats, books, men's clothing, woman's clothing, toys, electronics, shoes, garden utensils, foodstuffs of various kinds..."

Rose had to cut in. "Shoes?"

"Ah, yes, of course." He twiddled a few knobs. "So that's where we should start, then?"

"Yes please!"

A few bumps and jolts later they landed. The door swung open onto an enormous parking structure. As far as the eye could see in all directions were cars, ships, and vessels. A variety of illuminated signs indicated locations, and flashing arrows embedded in the pavement directed shoppers to various portals from which they could hop directly to the main entrance.

"This is enormous!" Rose breathed in wonder.

"This is just parking. Wait until you see the shops!" he said with a smile.

They took a moment to memorize their location - A412'B*596-1X. Neither of them noticed the automatic tattoo machines which would inscribe your parking location on the back of your hand.

Inside was indeed a wonder. Rose had never imagined anything like it. Thousands of stores, all dedicated to footwear, organized in concentric circles on 200 floors. Obviously, finding your way via window-shopping was all but impossible, but a series of artificial intelligence stations in the main entrance helped shoppers target their interests, sizes, and preferences, scan through a variety of potential offerings, and zero in on the quadrant and floor most likely to be of interest. The resulting access codes were stamped on one's hand with a temporary laser tattoo, which one simply scanned into any of the available elevators to be taken to the appropriate place.

Two hours later, the Doctor was tearing his hair out. Two hours of watching Rose look at shoes, touch shoes, try on shoes. So. Many. Shoes. This was the worst idea in the history of worst ideas. What could he have been thinking?

To her credit, Rose noticed his increasing discomfort.

"You don't have to follow me around all morning, Doctor," she said kindly. "Is there somewhere else you want to go for a while? We can meet up soon."

He looked dubious. "Well... maybe. I'd like to head off to the electronics conglomerate. It's astonishing, a floating city in the midst of this world's largest ocean. But it's a long way and it could be hard to find you here."

Rose shook her head. "Leave the sonic with me, or one of your tracker thingies. Pop off in the TARDIS and you can come right to me when you're done."

He all but bounced on his heels. "Perfect, Rose! You're brilliant." He hugged her and popped the sonic into her back pocket. "See you in a bit." And in a flash, he was gone.

.

After what seemed like only an hour or two, he was back, looking quite disheveled.

"Doctor!" Rose said, surprised. "I didn't hear the TARDIS land."

"About that..." he said, looking intensely, earnestly hopeful. "Do you happen to recall the parking number?"

Rose giggled, earning her a stern look. She wiped the smirk from her face and thought for a minute. "Um, I think it was AB412... something. Definitely started with A. Oh, and it had a prime in it. And an asterisk."

His face fell.

"No, no, no, that doesn't help at all." He paced. "All that tells us is that it's on one of the A levels. There are hundreds of A levels. There were fourteen characters to the parking code, Rose! Do you know how many possible parking spaces that is?"

Rose thought for a minute. "Could we possibly work back from the portal we came in from?"

He stared at her for a minute. This was a very good suggestion. Why hadn't he come up with it?

"Let's try it," he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her back towards the entrance.

"I'm pretty sure it's this one," he said after spending ten minutes examining multiple portal squares that were all clustered in the same area. He stopped in front of a somewhat familiar-looking purple square. "Yes, yes, I'm sure."

They hopped aboard and were instantly transported to a completely unfamiliar looking area of the parking structure. The Doctor tasted the air, spun in a slow circle with the sonic whirring, and even attempted to climb a pillar. Finally he just collapsed onto the ground, sitting with his long legs out in front of him and his back on a pillar, his long brown coat splayed out around him. He looked completely and utterly deflated.

"Rose, you don't understand," he moaned. "I've already been looking for hours! This is hopeless. We're going to have to go to the management. We're going to have to -" he shuddered "—fill out forms."

Rose carefully sat herself down next to him, leaned up against his shoulder.

"Well," she said lightly, "Nothing for it but to keep looking, then."

"Mmm."

"I mean it can't be all that far, right? We're in the A4s."

"Hmm."

"Next time we come somewhere like this, I'm taking a picture of the parking code on my phone."

No response.

"Can you use the sonic to do something clever?"

He perked up a little at that. "We-e-e-ell," he said. "I could probably modify it to send out a homing beacon. It won't take us right to it but it'll beep if we're getting close. We won't have to go down every row." He bent over and fiddled with it for a few minutes, hair flopping into his eyes. Finally, he hopped to his feet and clicked it open, pressed a few buttons, and sent a small beam of green light searching around the parking lot.

"This way!" he announced.

Off they trudged. Every few rows the Doctor held the sonic up, clicked some buttons, and shot a light beam. No response so far.

Rose grinned.

"What's funny?" he asked, his tone genuinely puzzled.

"It's..." she tried not to start laughing. "It's just that we're wandering around in a parking lot, trying to make the TARDIS beep. It's just like blokes on earth do every day of the week at the local shopping centers. Clicking their key fobs until they hear that _beepboop _and getting madder and madder."

He frowned at her, his feathers clearly ruffled. "I am not a bloke."

"No, no you're not." But she couldn't hold in the giggles as he pressed the button again.

"Stop laughing, Rose."

"Ah!" she actually had to wipe her eyes. "I'm sorry, Doctor, I just... I never expected that running through the stars with you would come down to a scene like one I must have gone through with my friends' dads a dozen times during my childhood. Except that you're not swearing anywhere near enough. But otherwise it's exactly the same."

He huffed. "New rule. For Rassillon's sake, someone please start paying attention to where we parked."

He clicked again.

_Beepboop!_


	9. Call Ahead When Visiting Jack (Rule 205)

_More 10/Rose, with a tiny cameo from Jack Harkness thrown in. Hope you enjoy!  
_.

* * *

It started innocently enough.

"Where to today, Rose?" the Doctor asked, finishing up his tea and plopping the cup back down on the counter with a bang. "You name it, off we go."

Rose thought for a minute.

"New Galactia? Space China? Piscorin? Amaphalaxid?" he literally was hopping from foot to foot with his own singular mix of impatience and enthusiasm.

"I know!" Rose shouted. "It's Jack's birthday in a couple days. Let's go see him."

The Doctor literally deflated. "Well, yes, that's all fine and good, Rose, but really? All of time and space and you want to go see Jack? On Earth?"

Rose grinned and made big eyes at him. "Please?"

The Doctor turned away, making a show of washing up his cup to try to avoid her imploring look. Really, this wasn't fair at all. Rose knew he couldn't withstand the puppy dog eyes for more than a few minutes.

"Please please?" she said, sidling up beside him and bumping elbows gently. "It'll be fun!"

He sighed, giving in to the inevitable. "Fine. Earth it is. But just for a short visit. And then we're off to see the singing sands of Kafalonia Falls."

Rose clapped excitedly. "Oh good! And hey, we can surprise him. Just drop in with a banner and some noise makers and maybe a cake or something." Seeing the Doctor's dubious expression she downgraded a bit. "Or just party hats. That's festive."

The Doctor pushed his hair out of his eyes. "This is not how I pictured my day," he grumped.

.

* * *

.

They landed the TARDIS in Jack's living room, and as always the Doctor led the way out the door, a ridiculous party hat on his head and a noisemaker in his hand. He even seemed to be getting into the spirit of the thing, approaching it with a reserve of good humor that Rose didn't dare point outin case it suddenly evaporated.

Rose was tight on The Doctor's heels when he came to an abrupt halt, yelled a garbled curse, and literally threw them both into the TARDIS, slamming the doors behind him.

"Mission aborted!" the Doctor groaned. "My eyes!"

"What is it?" Rose asked worriedly. She hadn't seen anything; her view had been entirely blocked by the Doctor's coat. "Is Jack okay? Is someone hurt?"

The Doctor scrubbed at his face with his hands. "Jack is... Jack is just fine. He's just busy."

"What do you - "

She was interrupted by a buoyant knock at the door. Rose stepped around the Doctor to open the door, to find a shirtless, pantsless Jack Harkness greeting her, a blindingly white towel tied around his waist that was rivaled only by his sparkling grin. He wrapped Rose in a huge hug. "Rosie! Doctor!" He winked. "If you wanted to see me naked, Doctor, all you had to do was ask."

Rose snorted "Ah! So that's what happened!" She gestured to the Doctor. "All this one could say was _'Oh my eyes!'"_

Jack burst out laughing. "Well, anyways, the more the merrier. Would you like to come in?"

"Sure -" Rose began.

"No!" the Doctor cut in. "No, thank you. We'll be at the pub around the corner when you've finished with... with whatever was going on in there." He grabbed Jack's arm and steered him out the front door. "And put on some trousers!"

"That was rude," Rose said under her breath as he hurriedly pumped the rotor and took off, repositioning them on the sidewalk outside the apartment building.

"Yes, well, seeing Jack in the all together with three ... I'm not all together sure what they were. At least one of them was green. I think one might have been a Vinvocci. You know, the spiky cacti-looking ones?" The Doctor shuddered."No offense to the Vinvocci. Fine creatures. However, seeing them engaged in foreplay in Jack's living room is ... well, let's just say I wouldn't mind boiling my eyes for a while."

Rose laughed, and took his hand, pulling him down the street towards the pub and steering them to a table in the window where they could watch the street for Jack's approach. "Let me buy you a pint, Doctor."

He nodded gratefully. "New rule. Always call ahead when visiting Jack."

Rose nodded seriously.

"Really, Rose. Drop in visits are rubbish."

"Yes, fine, got it." she replied distractedly, taking a big gulp of her ale. "Now, Doctor, tell me about these Vinvocci you saw. What was happening? How are they ... uh... compatible with humans?"

The Doctor dropped his head on the table with an audible thunk. "Rose Tyler, this whole day just cannot be happening."

Rose grinned. "Doctor, you know Jack will tell me anyways, and in a great deal more detail than you want to hear. So you might as well satisfy my curiosity."

The Doctor sat back up and grabbed a napkin and a pen.

"Ok," he said. "But listen carefully. I'm only going to go over this once."


	10. Only The Doctor Makes The Rules (242)

_Just a snippet this time, a couple of conversations between 11/Amy._

* * *

.

"Doctor," Amy asked one morning as they were finishing breakfast, "how come you never had so many rules before? I swear when I joined you there were only like five and now you're up in, what, the three hundreds?"

"Because I never needed as many before," he said simply, finishing his tea. Amy's right eyebrow rose in a way he found most threatening. "But there were way more than five, before you," he hurried to reassure her. "At least thirty."

Amy paused to take this in. "Are you saying I'm just that much trouble?"

The Doctor pushed back his chair and dumped his dishes in the sink, jostling her slightly as he passed by on his way out of the room. "Absolutely,' he called behind him, his voice affectionate.

Amy pouted for a moment, then tossed her hair over her shoulders and decided she could live with being difficult to control and classify. There are better things to be than well behaved.

And anyways, she was pretty sure he was joking.

.

* * *

She found him later researching something in the library, surrounded by stacks of dusty books, at least three of which he appeared to be reading at once. He looked up at her approach, a pencil behind his ear and a pair of glasses slipping down his nose.

"Can I do something for you, Pond?" he asked. He looked, she thought, very much a librarian.

"All right, yes. I've made a decision!" Amy announced. "_I_ am making a rule."

He closed the book he was holding, the corner of his mouth turning up in amusement. "Oh, do tell, please."

"There will be no new rules from this point on," Amy said. "Because honestly, who can keep track? It's not like you're writing them down anywhere."

"Uh uh." The Doctor smirked and brandished a pencil at her. "Companions don't make rules."

"Oh, is that a rule in itself?" she asked sarcastically.

"It is now! Rule 242. Only the Doctor makes the rules."

"You know, you're letting all this power go to your head."

"Yes, I am," he said, then huffed a bit at the finger she chose to show him.

"Besides," he added reasonably, "who says I'm not writing them down?"

Amy blinked. "There's a rulebook?"

He nodded. "Little blue notebook, kind of like River's. You must see me writing in it once in a while."

Amy thought. She _had_ seen him hunched over a notebook once in a while, doing something with a scrubby little pencil, but he quickly tucked it away any time she happened by.

"Well, can I see it?" she finally asked.

He shook his head. "Private."

"How can it be private when it consists of a list of rules I'm expected to follow?"

"Well it would hardly be any fun if you had a full list to just follow, now would it?" he asked, incredulous. "Where's the spontaneity in that? We wouldn't have anything to argue about, and everything would be all well behaved and boring."

She rolled her eyes. "You," she said slowly. "Are mental."

He picked up a pencil and mimed writing a new rule on an invisible pad on his hand.

Amy laughed. "All right, all right, stop. No more rules today, ok?"


	11. No Open Flames Near the Bowtie (Rule 31)

_You knew River would make an appearance eventually, right? I haven't quite gotten her voice down yet but this is her introductory, although brief, entrance into the series. Just a quick 11/River and Amy/Rory bit of silliness. _

_Thank you everyone for all of the likes and follows! I'm excited that this series is getting the amount of views and readers that it is! I'm shooting for an update every Sunday - will I make it to 52 rules by its one year anniversary? _

* * *

.

Amy and Rory were lounging on the stairs in the console room late one evening, enjoying their tea, when the Doctor came rushing in from outside the TARDIS as if a pack of demons was after them. His hair was mussed and his jacket appeared to be singed. Small puffs of smoke trailed from the left sleeve. Most shockingly, his bowtie was ash colored and hanging in strips.

"Doctor, what happened?" Amy cried, jumping to her feet.

"Nothing," he said tersely, straightening himself out and patting out a small fire that was burning on one cuff.

Amy narrowed her eyes. "Doctor, there's lipstick on your cheek, and parts of you appear to be on fire."

He turned and pointed at them both. "Well she's _your_ daughter," he said defensively, scrubbing at his face. "I blame you two. Completely uncivilized, that one."

And with that he stalked away, muttering something about a fire extinguisher. Amy and Rory eyed each other in confusion.

"We," Amy said, "are going to need to hear more about this one."

"Oh I really hope not," Rory replied.

.

* * *

Ten minutes later, River burst in, still adjusting buttons on the vortex manipulator strapped to her wrist as she materialized in the center of the console room.

"Where is he?" she barked. "The Doctor, is he here?"

Amy blinked a few times, trying to catch up. "Why yes, he is, Melody," she said slowly and pointedly. "He appeared to be just slightly aflame."

River grinned. "Oh goodness. I'm going to have a world of a time explaining my way out of this one." She stopped to fluff her hair and leaned in to examine her reflection in the monitor, tugging her top downward slightly to better show her cleavage. "How do I look?" she asked, turning to them with a wide smile.

"You look fine," Rory said. "Now what's going on?"

"Oh, Mom, Dad," she said, smirking cheekily. "You know. Marital stuff! Trust me, you wouldn't want to know the details."

Rory rolled his eyes and went off in search of more tea.

.

* * *

"So sweetie, you see, I didn't know that the lotion was flammable, or that your coat was too near the flame," River said. "In fact if you taken it off like I asked you to at the beginning of the evening, none of this would have happened at all!"

"Oh, no!" the Doctor cried, looking fierce. "You don't get out of this one so easily. You. Set. My. Bowtie. On. Fire." He scowled intensely, struck by a new thought. "Did Amy put you up to this?"

River pouted prettily and took a slow step towards him. "Do you really think I turn to Amy for advice on the little games we like to play together, Sweetie?"

The Doctor looked flustered. "Well no. I mean I hope not! Heaven forbid."

River smiled at him from beneath her lashes as she sauntered across the bedroom. "Besides," she purred, "I don't really need any advice in that arena, do I?" She fingered his top button, flickered a little kiss near his ear. "Forgive me?" she breathed.

The Doctor groaned, but it was half hearted at best. Of course he did. What else could one do when one was married to the magnificent River Song?

"You know I do, you bad girl," he said. "But new rule. No open flames near the bowtie."

"Mmmm hmmm," she replied distractedly, unbuttoning one by one, her fingers maddening.

"River!" he said as sharply as he could manage. "Are you listening?"

"Yes, Sweetie," she said. "No open flames. No worries." She grinned up at him. "We won't need any."


End file.
